Of Bros and Babes
by wildegreenlight
Summary: A good Bro always has your back, no matter how scary the mission is.


**A/N This is just a little something to celebrate a few things that I feel are terribly unlauded: Ron & Harry's friendship (BROTP), Harry as a dad, and Ron as an uncle. I hope you enjoy this super fluffy piece of fluff (yeah, it's that fluffy).**

Ron Weasley was enjoying one his favorite thing in the world- a Saturday morning lie in. This particular one did not qualify as his best because his lovely wife was not curled up next to him. She had left him early in order to help her mum shop for furniture. Apparently, muggle furniture was crafty and could only be got at oddly early hours of the day. He let out a sigh, missing Hermione but determined to rest-it had been a hell of a week. He and Harry had just wrapped up a rather nasty case; he didn't know what had been worse: all the nights away from home or the entire day of paperwork they had to do when they got back. He flexed his hand, still sore from the miles of parchment. _Speaking of sore…_ Rolling over to stretch his back, Ron could not contain the grin that bunched his cheeks as he recalled exactly how said back had become sore. It never ceased to amaze him that she craved him every bit as much as he craved her. _I hate being gone, but Merlin, how I love coming home!_

Ron snuggled down into the warmth of the blankets-if he were really lucky this is exactly where Hermione would find him when she returned. Sleep was rapidly approaching when it was arrested by the shape of a great horned stag which spoke with Harry's voice.

"Ron! Come quick! Need you! My place! Don't tell Hermione!"

His response was automatic. With the swiftest and precision that made him one the corps most impressive young Aurors, Ron was dressed, wand in hand before he really had time to process the distress call. _Don't tell Hermione?!_ Concern for his best mate trumped his confusion, so he Disapperated with a crack, landing directly on Harry's doorstep.

Before he could even raise his fist to knock, the door was ripped open, revealing a completely disheveled Harry. His hair was unruly, even by Harry standards, his glasses were slightly askew, and his eyes were panicky in way that Ron had not seen in…well, ever to be perfectly honest.

"Thank God you're here!" Harry peered around him suspiciously. "You didn't bring Hermione did you?"

"No…she's shopping with her mum…Harry, what in the bleeding hell is going on? You know I don't keep secrets from Hermione!"

"I know…sorry…come in…I'll…you'll see."

Ron followed him inside, mind racing to figure out what could be so wrong that he would want to keep Hermione in the dark. To his surprise they didn't stop in the parlor but continued down the hall, coming to a stop outside his nephew's nursery.

"Is it James? Is something wrong with James?"

"No...yes...I don't know...that's why I needed you," Harry pushed open the door, apparently breaking the silencing charm he had cast minutes earlier. The baby's cries were near deafening as the two crossed to his crib. "He won't stop-I've tried everything-rocked him, fed him, changed him, took him outside, brought him inside, nothing works Ron!"

"Ok, ok...let's sort this out..come on little guy-tell Uncle Ron what's going on."

Ron scooped the red-faced infant up in his arms and began to bounce him gently-the crying quieted a bit but did not cease.

"Reckon he's sick?"

"Took his temperature-nothing. Scanned him-nothing."

"Has he ever done this before?"

"Cry? Yes, Ron, babies DO cry."

"I know that you git-I mean non-stop like this."

"Not that I know of...I mean Ginny is usually with him...or your mum."

"Where is Ginny by the way?"

"Had a meeting with the Harpies about coming back to training."

Apparently the little one did not like to discuss his mother's career, for at that moment he let out the wail of a de-potted Mandrake. Harry's nerves were obviously beyond shot, and Ron was doing his best to maintain his head for strategy.

"Today's the first time it's just been me...ya know?"

Everything began to click into place; Ginny had left James with Harry for the first time, and obviously, it was not going well.

"That's why you didn't want me to tell Hermione."

"Yeah...she might tell Ginny and I…"

"Say no more mate...we got this...two of us have faced much nastier demons than this little guy...even if he does look like you."

"I was thinking the really scary parts of him are ALL Weasley."

"All part of my evil plan."

"How's that?"

"Throwing you and Ginny together at such a young age-just wanted you to end up with a kid that was half Weasley-best payback really."

"Payback? For what?"

"It's a right long list," he nodded down at the wriggling infant, "and I don't have the time for details: giant chess game, giant spiders, giant giants...I could go on."

"Giant Arse! Here I thought you did all that 'cause you love me."

"Oh, I do, I love all my brothers but that doesn't mean," James' cry drowned out the verbal spar- eliciting concerned looks from both men. Ron sifted quickly though all the "uncle" knowledge he had accumulated in the last five years.

"Fed him?"

"Course I did-not an idiot!"

"Dja burp him?"

"Uh-no."

"Well, that gives us something to try at least."

Ron popped the unhappy baby up on his shoulder, patting his back the way he'd seen his mum do when she worked her grandmother magic on a fussy Weasley baby. When James screamed bloody murder, Harry all but decided to floo him to St. Mungos, embarrassing press be damned. At precisely that moment, the little lad went stiff as a board, letting fly a belch that would have made Hagrid proud.

"Little sprog may look like you, but he's definitely got his mum's burp."

"Another part of your plan?"

"Precisely."

Harry reached for the newly calmed babe, but Ron shook his head, "Look mate, no offense, but you look like something Crookshanks hacked up-go get a shower-I'll keep an eye on him until you get done. That way when Ginn gets home she'll think you're a pro."

"Good idea-you sure?"

"'Course! Besides, James needs a little quality time with his favorite, and most handsome, uncle."

"Oh! I didn't know Charlie came in from Romania!"

"Twat! Get outta here before I change my mind and call Ginny!"

"Ok," Harry held up his hands in mock surrender, backing out of the nursery, "And Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for saving my sorry arse...as usual."

"Hard habit to break, but I reckon you've saved mine just as much-now go on-you smell a bit ripe!"

Alone with his newest nephew, Ron made his way over to the rocker, settling down and adjusting James in the crook of his arm so that he could see his tiny face.

"Feeling better? Good. Just so you know, don't plan on this being a regular thing. You're a great kid and all, and your parents are two of my favorite people in the world-don't tell them I said that-but Saturday mornings are for sleeping, alright? I mean, I know one day your Aunt Mione and I will have little ones of our own to wake us up, but that's a while off, you know? Not that I would mind it not being a while off, it's just...I've got some things to do first, to be ready. I would feel more comfortable if we had a bigger place and a few more galleons in the bank, ya know? Not that I think it's all about money, but I just don't want Mione to have to worry the way my mum did. And I want my kids to not have to worry about wearing trainers that are too tight or robes that are too short. Mione says I'll spoil them rotten, our kids, but I won't. I want them to work and be appreciative, but...it's hard to explain."

The infant cooed contentedly in his arms, giving his uncle a brilliant yawn. Ron looked through the open door of the nursery and listened intently; he could hear the water running in the ensuite down the hall.

"Sleepy? I understand. Now, what I'm about to do is to remain our little secret, ya hear?" Ron began to hum, ever so softly, picking up the melody of a song that his mother had sung to him as a child. "This is one of your mum's favorites." His voice was soft and warm as he sang gently:

 _Babbity Rabbity there on your stump_

 _Babbity Rabbity why don't you jump_

 _down through the valley_

 _under the trees_

 _over the river_

 _fast as the breeze_

Even before the song had ended, little James Sirius Potter was fast asleep; his uncle Ron followed close behind. In the bedroom Harry Potter smiled as he listened at the magical baby monitor; as satisfying as it would be to tease his best friend later, he figured keeping that little secret was the least that he could do.


End file.
